


I'm Alone

by BountyOnMyHead



Category: Cinderella - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28550103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BountyOnMyHead/pseuds/BountyOnMyHead





	I'm Alone

Once Upon a Time, there was a man whom I loved very much. He was a sad man, for his wife had died some years ago, and he was lonely with only his daughter for company. We were first acquaintances, and then, after walks in his garden, we became more than that. My two daughters seemed to love him as much as I did, and eventually we were wed.

I wished that my daughters and his would get along and that they could be the best of friends. We lived together happily for many years, until one day, when he didn’t come home. I kept waiting and waiting, but my husband had been lost at sea. I would never see him again. 

I had lost the love of my life, and I had to continue to take care of my daughters and stepdaughter. The big house seemed empty without my husband and his laughter. She reminds me so much of him that it's hard to look at her. Her eyes are his eyes, her humility his humility, and her laugh is his laugh. I can still hear him in her. I need help with the chores and I need her away from my sight. It hurts so much to look at her and see my husband. My daughters miss their stepfather too, and the entire house is now somber. There is no laughter, there is no light. We are entombed in unhappiness and solitude, and I can think of no way to fix it.

As days and months and years pass, the hurt grows less. I see her less, and my heart, though longing, seems to have accepted that he is gone. My daughters and I laugh sometimes. It is not the same. There is something darker, meaner to it-something broken. I haven’t spoken to my stepdaughter in years besides telling her what she needs to clean. I mean to help her with chores but then I see her and remember. She does the chores, and I am not reminded of what I have lost. 

When the Prince announces the Ball, I hope my daughters can find someone and be happy, although I cannot. I want them to find love and leave this empty house. I think of my stepdaughter and I don’t want the last remnant of my husband to leave me. I forbid her going to the Ball. She is all I have of him.

I dress my daughters up, and they smile and laugh, and I hope that they can do that at the Ball too. We rent a carriage for the evening, and set out for the palace. I pray to the heavens that my daughters will find love, even not with the Prince. We dance and we laugh, and yet I cannot allow myself to be fully happy. When the mysterious woman comes in, I pay no mind. My daughters whisper about her, and the Ball seems quiet. I only look at my daughters and they seem happy. I find myself catching glances of my husband in the corners of the ballroom. It steals my breath and I can’t focus anymore. 

As the night goes on, I drift by in a daze. My daughters have to pull me into our carriage, and it is only on the way home that my clarity returns. When we arrive at the house I need to see my stepdaughter. I need to see him. 

She is cleaning by the fireplace and I need to make her look less like him. I grab cold ashes and rub them on her face. It no longer looks like him, and for the first time in years I can breathe properly. His face isn’t haunting me from beyond the grave, looking at me with soulful and imploring eyes. I am not being judged for how I act. 

I hear that the prince is looking for a girl. My daughters want to be his girl, so I let them. If they are happy, then I am happy. They run around trying on dresses and they laugh and giggle. I smile as I sit on my chair. The prince comes to our cold house. He is taken aback by the lack of joy, but I smile. My daughters try on the glass slipper the footman provides. I know neither of them will fit the slipper, but I pretend like they will. It’s a game to us, seeing who can pretend the longest.

My stepdaughter is waiting on the stairs and looking at the prince like he’s her moon. It makes my heart ache a little, seeing my husband in that look. The prince eventually catches a glimpse of her, and he asks her to try on the slipper. I allow it because she won’t fit into the slipper, and I will never lose the last bit of my husband. 

Then the shoe fits, and my world falls apart. He is gone from me now. She is leaving with the prince, and all I have left is the house he used to live in. I go back into my chair and sit. I wonder what he would think of me. 

As the weeks pass, I get myself back together for my daughters, and we hire a maid. I stop catching glances of my husband around the house, and I feel more empty than before. Some days, the royal carriage will pass by my house and I can catch a glimpse of his smile, or his eyes that don’t quite match with the delicate hand waving out of the window.


End file.
